


Stay With Me

by bitchcakegreen



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fucking, Jon and Sansa Are Not Related, Kissing, POV Sansa Stark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2019-06-24 02:41:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15620724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bitchcakegreen/pseuds/bitchcakegreen
Summary: Dirty little story in a modern AU where Jon is a famous actor in London and Sansa is a teacher from Scotland. Told from Sansa’s POV.





	Stay With Me

“Where are you going?”

I’d thought he was asleep and I would be able to make my escape with minimal fuss. I turned, looking over my shoulder at the sight he presented laying on the rumpled cream-colored sheets. His dark hair was mussed from sleep and last night’s shared activities. His eyes were hooded in that stomach-flipping way. God, he was handsome.

“Back to my hotel room,” I answered pulling the blanket up a nit to cover my breasts.

“Stay,” He traced his fingers down my spine, running one over the tattoo on my hip. That had taken him by surprise last night when he’d undressed me. I couldn’t control the shiver that slipped through me at his touch. Fiery passion. A cliched as it sounded that was what this man made me feel in the span of a few short, but precious hours. I was surprised the bed sheets hadn’t ignited the moment we hit them.

I looked out the window of his apartment, focusing on the fat raindrops sliding down the glass pane and not the feel of his skin on mine. You could barely make out the shadowy silhouette of the building next door. Anything to get my head back in the game. I needed to get out of here. Fast. I was letting emotion take over and that wasn’t like me.

“You and I both know this was nothing more than a one off,” I turned to face him, not letting the blanket slip from my shoulders and I knew the pin-up girl make-up that transformed me into a beauty by daylight was smeared all over my face. But when I met his gaze I knew he didn’t see any of that. Those soulful brown eyes held the same passion and wanting they had when he’d stopped to help me with my shoes only a few short hours before.

The sound of those raindrops was the only thing in the room for a few moments. I blame the rain for being in this bed, in this room, in his arms. If I haven’t stepped on that grate and caught my heel in the metal struts just outside the theatre he would have walked right by me without a word. Without his hand on my elbow as he steadied me. Without he fingers light caressing my ankle as he knelt to replace my shoe. I swear I heard some ladies sighing when he pulled that Cinderella move on the cobblestoned pathway.

“Why do you say that?” He sat up, propping some pillows behind his but never moving his hand from the small of my back.

“You’re a big movie star who lives in London. I’m just a teacher from Scotland.”

Tugging on the blanket, he pulled me down once again to lie beside him and idly ran his thumb circles on my bare back.

“It’s raining. You should stay here with me.”

He ran his hand down my back and under the blanket to caress my ass.

“Go do your matinee. I’ll go wander through Harrod’s. If, when you’re done, you still want to see me again,” I leaned down and brushed my lips over his “we’ll have dinner before your evening show.” I wasn’t sure who I was lying to him…or me.

This was a one-night stand, a memory to help me through the cold winter nights when nothing, not even a raging fire would warm a person up. He might be enamored with me right now, but I wasn’t harboring any delusions it was anything more than fleeting fancy.

He slipped his hand to the back of my head and deepened our kiss. He tasted so good, the scruff from his beard rasped against my cheeks.

“Stay with me. You’re all I need,” he murmured against my lips, his tone needy, his hands greedy.

Gripping my hips, he lifted me up until I straddled him, the blanket falling away to leave me gloriously bared to his hungry gaze.

A gasp escaped my lips when my pussy connected with his hardening cock. Despite having taken me six ways to Sunday the night before he appeared ready for more.

“I can’t seem to get enough of you,” he growled, sliding those big hands up my ribcage to rest just below my breasts. I knew the feeling.

He rotated his hips, pressing that impressive erection intimately against my pussy. I groaned in response. I couldn’t help it. I began rocking my hips back and forth, slowly, rubbing myself up and down his shaft. My clit was throbbing, and I could feel myself growing wetter. I rocked once more, causing him to shudder beneath me. I did that. I made this powerfully built, famously cool and collected actor weak with need.

Moving his hands up my body he cupped my breasts, kneading them gently, rolling my nipples in between his forefingers and thumbs. He licked his lips that wicked tongue darting out, begging me to suck on it. I obliged.

Leaning down, I pressed a kiss against his mouth, simply tasting him, taking my time, committing him to memory. I felt his growl of pleasure rumble through his chest and over my skin. Bracing my hands on his shoulders, I caressed his warm flesh. The hard points of his nipples scraped my palms as I explored every ridge and hard plane of his torso. He was thickly muscled, and the smooth flesh was marked by a few long scars.

Slithering his hand down my body, he dug his fingers into my hips, guiding me down fully onto his cock. The tip brushed my swollen pussy and graze my clit. A shiver raced through me and I moaned against his lips. He slid smoothly, easily between my folds and pushed into my entrance. Nothing had ever felt so good.

“Tell me you were really going to run out on this,” he shifted his hips slightly and changed the position of his cock until he filled me even more.

“It was just an idea.”

“Worst idea ever.”

“I don’t know what I was thinking,” my laughter turned to gasps of pleasure as we both moved in concert, his cock driving into me deep, heavy thrusts.

I kissed him again, this time feeding on his mouth like a hungry wolf. If this was the last time I wanted to remember every single moment of it. The rasp of his whiskers against my chin, the smooth, hot feel of his chest against mine, and the exquisite length of his cock buried deep inside me.

“More.”

His thrusts sped up, hitting every sensitive spot. His hands were everywhere, skimming my curves. I got lost in the heat of his mouth, in the strength of his body, in the little noises he made as I slide up and down on his shaft. My pussy clinched around his thick cock and I knew it would only take a few more thrusts before I came apart in his arms again.

He gripped the back of my head in one hand and pulled my mouth from his. He kissed my jaw, the line of my neck, my collar bone, anywhere his lips could reach. My skin burned from where his lips made contact.

I moved my own hand down my belly and over my mound to my clit. One brush of my finger over the sensitive bundle of nerves was enough to push me over the edge. I came in a rush, crying out his name into the stillness of the room.

“Jon…”

Bracing my hands on the bedsheets beneath him, I rode him with every ounce of energy I still possessed, feeling him stiffen inside me. A male moa of satisfaction ripped from his lips as he climaxed deep inside me.

I collapsed against his chest, our breathing heavy and mingling with the sound of the rain against the window, a sheen of sweat coated both our bodies.

A few minutes ticked by and I was content to remain draped over him, I knew I should get up, grab my clothes, and hit the road but something held me fast to his side. He dropped a kiss on my head and shifted our bodies until we lay side by side, his chest to my back, his palm resting on my hip.

“Thank god for that tube grate,” his words were so soft I wasn’t sure I heard him correctly. Despite every thought racing in my head.

“Yes, thank for my klutziness and her majesty’s subway system.”

Time slowed, and I knew he was finally asleep, that hand now loosely resting on my belly.

With absolute care, I extracted myself from his grip. This time I wasn’t taking any chances. I scooped up my clothes and shimmied into my dress in record time. With a final glance at his sleeping form on the bed, I headed out into the living room. I looked around for my purse, finding it on the coffee table where I’d thrown in before he lifted me over his shoulder and hauled me to bed.

Rummaging inside I pulled out a pen and a scrap of paper. Taking a deep breath, taking a risk, I scribbled him a quick goodbye adding my phone number on the bottom. I dropped it on the kitchen counter and headed out of the apartment, thinking of the words I’d written on that old receipt above my phone number.

Just in case. Sansa


End file.
